Breathless
by luluvee
Summary: Outtakes, alternate POVs, futuretakes, related one shots of 'Starstruck'
1. Chapter 1

**Breathless: EPOV of Starstruck, Chapter 60**

"You're currently living in a four-star hotel in a city with some of the best restaurants in the world."

I open my mouth to interject but she just barrels forward, her deeply feminine voice growing higher an octave with incredulity.

"And all you can do is sit in your room and eat chips like a grounded seventeen year old boy?"

I wait a beat to make sure that she is finished. "I'm going to go ahead and assume you're going to yell at me now.'

"You'd be assuming correctly. Fat ass."

The grin that erupts on my face is so wide that I know my cheeks are going to be sore later. This woman, slight little Bella, pastry chef with an attitude, keeps drawing me in with every passing moment I spend with her.

As she rants at me, I walk over to the bathroom, staring at my reflection as I wash the chilli cheese powder off my fingers. I don't look any different than I had looked last week. Granted, I look different than normal; I got a cut an color for this role and I finally listened to Mom and got those three teeth fixed.

But aside from all that, I _feel_ different.

And, if I really think about it, I can pinpoint the exact moment my insides began their squish-squish routine.

The moment Bella, Bad Ass Baker, punched me in the arm in the back of William's Fresh Café.

No one has ever treated me like that. Lately, I am Edward Cullen, movie star heartthrob. Girls faint and scream and cry when they see me; their eyes have stars and dollar signs in them. Guys aren't much better: they act all macho and tough, their bravado turning them into douche bags. But even before fame had come knocking, I had always felt strangely disconnected from others. Very few have ever treated me 'normal.'

Until Bella, that is. With her blush and big, brown eyes she made me feel comfortable not only within my surroundings, but within my own skin.

"Do you even know what a home cooked meal tastes like?" I hear her say as I search for any signs of change on my face.

"I take offence to that," I reply, hesitating slightly at the end because I now just realize that I don't even know her whole name. I put it on my mental Bella-related To Do list and mark it as a priority.

"Microwaved Chinese take away in your living room doesn't count as a home cooked meal, Cullen," she growls adorably.

"I'll have you know that my mother microwaves a pretty mean Hungry Man." It's true, though her homemade oven fried chicken is even better. But I won't tell Bella that just yet.

"Ha ha, funny stuff," she deadpans. "That's it. What are you doing tomorrow?

I have a feeling I know where this is going. And I like it.

"We're filming for half the day. Laurent has a thing about keeping us happy and not overworked."

"What time do you finish?"

"I don't know," I tell her honestly. "But I can guarantee to not work past five in the afternoon." That may or may not be a lie, I'll find out for sure tomorrow.

"Tell Katty and everyone else to come over. I'm going to show you guys what real food tastes like."

There is a sudden hint of doubt coloring her voice, barely noticeable but I manage to catch it anyway. Just a minute ago she was so sure, her voice heated and backed with conviction. I want to know exactly what's running through her head right now.

"All right, I'll pass on the message."

The rest of our conversation is awkward and stilted, but not for lack of trying on my part. Bella is gone, stuck somewhere in her head and I'm pretty sure there is no getter her back for now.

"Good night, Bella" I finally say to her, but I don't want to let her go just yet.

Then a thought hits me:

I don't think I want to let her go at all.

Ever.


	2. Chapter 2

Here is, the long awaited EPOV of their first date! Thank you to everyone who donated to the F4LLS campaign. You guys rock. :)

* * *

><p><strong><span>Breathless: The First Date<span>**

I'm used to the whispers and the stares I get when I step out on the sidewalk. It's nothing to me anymore; being in this business requires you to grow a thick skin.

So it's not such a huge deal when we step up onto the tram-thingy and more than half the car is whispering while staring at us. I'm about to shrug it off when I hear something that makes my blood boil.

"That's definitely Edward Cullen. But who's that fugly cunt holding his hand?"

The ire that rises within me is instant and I want to turn to that group of heartless shrews and rip that particular scrunty bitch a new one.

Bella either ignores the bitch taking up a two-seater by herself or hasn't heard what she said, simply dragging me along to the back of the tram car where two empty seats await us.

"I'm sorry," I tell her, trying to gracefully slide in beside her. "This was such a stupid idea."

I'm right, of course. Who was I to think that I could even be remotely normal? And who the hell am I, dragging this sexy, sweet, unknowing woman into the hell and chaos that is my life?

"Sorry?" she asks and I can't even look at her because I really don't deserve to. "Sorry for what?"

"This was a stupid idea," I mumble. "I never should've… God, I'm such an idiot."

Bella stiffens beside me and Jesus flicking Christ, I'm such a nimrod.

"No, Bella, this," I motion between the two of us, "wasn't the bad thing. I mean… I, wait, I mean I'm the idiot. I shouldn't have tried to take you out like this."

She looks angrier and angrier with every moronic stutter leaving my mouth. I want to hit myself.

"It's just, I should've known," I gesture to the turned heads and cellphone camera pointed our way, "that this would happen. I live in a fishbowl, Bella, and I'm so, so sorry for dragging you into it."

Shit, she still looks pissed. I have to watch her now because I wouldn't be surprised if she decides to get off at the next stop and ignore my ass for the rest of my existence. I want to be able to have one last memory of her.

Bella takes a deep breath and I flinch when I see her raise her hand. But instead of the slap that I am expecting, she grasps my chin instead.

"You listen to me, Edward I-can't-be-bothered-to-remember-your-middle-name something-Cullen II. I am a big girl. I think I can deal with a few crazy fans. Now, if you still think this is a bad idea, tell me now and I will ding the donger and get off at the next stop."

Ding the donger? What the fu—

"But tell me now because I refuse to waste any more time with someone who—"

I have to cut her off, but the only way I can shut her up is to kiss her.

God, she's so soft. She tastes like Schezuan spice and mint and she's just oh, so soft against me that I have to bite back the moan threatening to escape me. Then, all out of nowhere I can feel her soft little tongue taking peeking licks at my top lip and there is no reason in me to deny this amazing woman anything so I kiss her with abandon.

My lungs are beginning to protest but I don't want to pull away because that would mean ending this moment and, quite frankly, _fuck that_. But, sadly, she pulls away first and I'm instantly hard – well, _harder_ – by the mischievous glint of victory in her gorgeous mocha eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I whisper as I pepper her face in little kisses, the rest of the sycophantic voyeurs on this tram totally forgotten even though I can see flashbulbs glowing in my periphery.

She laughs, a beautiful sound so out of sync in its depth but still strangely in tune to what I know of her. I love this laugh because it's new to my ears and I want to hear her laugh like this more often.

"You're not off the hook," she giggles, another new sound for me to relish. "You _will_ have to be punished."

Even though her tone is light, her actual words go straight to my cock and I have to suppress another groan.

"Yes, please," manages to slip out between my lips before I can catch it. Bella stops, regards me for a moment then lets out another burst of her intriguing laughter.

"Only if you're lucky, then," she says, leaning against me to look out her window.

:: :: ::

"Seriously?" she asks, shaking her head in disgust. "So your porn name would be Rutherford Locust?"

Apparently the streetcar – Bella hit me every time I called it a tram – ride is going to take _forever_. Thank God I erred on the side of early, through we won't get to stroll leisurely through High Park like I'd hoped to. Because High Park is at the end of the line.

Bella decided to retaliate by insisting on playing this question game where we take turns asking each other question that we both have to answer.

"Christ, who the hell names their dog Rutherford?"

I poke her. "For your information, Rutherford was a cat. A very loyal, purebred British shorthair cat."

"Oh, Lordy," she snorts. "Pretentious much?"

"Fine, then, what's your pornstar name?" It's probably something like Heathcliff Pine, no better than what mine is.

"Roxy Coxwell," she announces proudly and I sputter out a laugh. Holy shit, she can't be serious, can she?

"No fucking way! You've got to be joking!"

"Nope," she grins. "Grew up here in Toronto, on Coxwell Avenue, between Greenwood and Woodbine."

"You Canadians are fucking perverts." I feel the need to point this out and she doesn't argue.

"And Roxy was my beautiful chocolate Lab." She looks triumphant and I want to kiss her but this is technically our first date and I think I've used up my allotted amount of make-out time. I really fucking hope not, though.

"The next stop is Indian Road," the robotic female voice over the loudspeaker informs us. "Indian Road."

"Are we there yet?" Bella pretends to whine. I give into the urge and land a small peck on the tip of her nose.

"Almost," I tell her proudly; I studied, like, four maps last night, you can't blame me.

"So what's at High Park?" she asks, dropping the pretense and twining her fingers through mine. I give a smug side grin to all the cameras around us.

"You really can't stand surprises, can you?"

I recall the telephone conversations from this week where she badgered the hell out of me, trying to find out what we were going to do today.

"I can't help it if every surprise in my life gets tainted!" she exclaims.

"That seriously can't be true." I'm right to disbelieve; not _every_ surprise could've been tainted. It was a surprise meeting me, wasn't it?

"It is!" She begins to tick points off on her fingers as I subtly urge her to stand so we can get off at our stop, which is next.

"Most recently, Rose decided to buy me a fish and she had it in the little baggie and she put the baggie in a box. When I opened it, the poor fish was belly up!"

I can't help but chortle, almost tripping on my ass as the streetcar veers left. She smack my shoulder.

"It was horrifying! I thought she was doing some small scale version of the horse head thing from _The Godfather_!"

This just makes me laugh even harder.

"Then there was my sixth birthday, the clown got arrested at my party because apparently he was violating his parole arrangements. Then, when I was…"

She regales me with the horror stories of her childhood as we walk leisurely through the park. Some of them, like the clown story, are absolutely insane. Other sound like plain coincidence observed by a good natured pessimist. Either way, she enthralls me with ever little nuance I discover.

I check my watch: 7: 34. Perfect timing. I guide her on the paved sidewalk while I try to convince her that most – if not all – of those incidents were just coincidences.

"Seriously, Bella?" I tease, squeezing her hand. "I think that, because some bad things have happened, you're practically looking for all the downsides now whenever a surprise—"

"Do you go call me ma self-fulfilling prophecy, Cullen," she growls, punching me in the arm with her free hand.

I laugh and we walk further. I really hope we aren't going to get lose; I'll be the first to admit, I have an atrocious sense of direction.

As we continue on (hopefully) the right path, we see other couples and some groups of families walking in the same direction. I'm pretty sure now that we're not lost – long live the lemmings and the sheep!

"'Dream in High Park?'" Bella asks, reading the banner at the same time I see it. The vinyl is strung high at the mouth of a tree-lined lane.

"Yup," I say, tugging her along before she can read the rest of the banner. "Come on."

The winding path is dim but lit by twinkle lights hung in the tree canopy above us. Soon enough the trees clear into this intimate little amphitheatre. An usher hands us programs and then leads us to two seats in the front row. I rip off the _**RESERVED**_ signs before Bella can notice.

"Is this…" I look over to her and she's just in awe of our surroundings. She gestures down to the paper in her hands.

"Well, you did tell me this was your favorite Shakespeare play," I reply, recalling the night when we had dinner at her house.

When she agreed to go out with me, I scoured Google for something memorable to do. I came across this 'Dream in High Park,' a theatre company that does Shakespeare plays in High Park. It just seemed so perfect.

"So, surprised?"

"Yes," she squeaks, he head wobbling like a bobblehead dash toy. "Definitely."

"Good surprise?"

The sour look on her face makes me chuckle as she answers affirmatively.

The lamps and twinkle lights in the trees surrounding us dim and the stage lights brighten, signalling the beginning of Shakespeare's classic tragedy _Romeo & Juliet_. I take a chance and subtly throw my arm around Bella's shoulder. I resist the urge to fist pump with my free hand when she snuggles into my side.

"To households, both alike in dignity…"

:: :: ::

"Did you enjoy, fairest Bella?" I ask, channelling my inner Brit. She looks at me, her eyebrow quirked.

"Please don't tell me you're planning to do a period piece next," she says, trying – and failing – to stifle a giggle. "Because your British accent is abysmal."

I want to laugh – because, let's face it, she's right – but I'd rather listen to her laugh so I put on a face of horrified shock. I'm about to say something snarky when she leans in. I think she's about to kiss me but she speaks instead.

"I kind of want to kiss you."

I can't stop the grin that takes over my face. "You never have to ask."

She leans in a fraction of an inch more and I lean in, too. I watch as her tongue peeks out to lick her lips and I—

"Hi, excuse me, Mr. Cullen? Ms. Swan?"

Am cockblocked.

Motherfucker.

"S-s-so sorry to distu-disru-interrupt, sir, ma'am." You're going to be _really_ sorry in a second, buddy.

"Damn right you're sorry," I mutter as Bella giggles in my arms. I quirk an eyebrow at her before sighing. "What can I do for you?"

I can hear the guy swallow, he's that nervous. "Dr… Dr. Carswell would like to see you backstage. Sir."

Oh, shit. "Oh." I look down at Bella and she eyes me. "Okay, then." I pull her to her feet. "I guess… Come on, then, Bella."

We follow the cockblocker-in0tights backstage where we're greeted by a very loud cast party in progress. Actors in various states of dress are milling about, almost all of them clutching bottles of cheap champagne.

Bottles of cheap champagne I probably paid for.

"Aha!" a loud Irish brogue in the center of the room calls out. "Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please! Our benefactors for the evening have arrived!"

Yeup, I definitely paid for all this champagne.

"It was no big deal, honestly," I stammer. I may or may not have neglected to tell Bella that the cost of admission to Dream In High Park was a donation. And, with that I may or may not have omitted just how much I donated.

But, in my defense, she didn't ask.

The woman – who I assume is the Dr. Siobhan Carswell I spoke on the phone with yesterday – tumbles over to us, grabbing first mine then Bella's hands. Then there is a glass of bubbly in my hands all of a sudden but I can't really see anything but Bella; she looks so freaked out.

God, I've got to get us out of here.

A few minutes after the fifth or sixth toast, Bella is involved in a lengthy foodie conversation with Juliet, the Nurse, and Queen Montague. I squeeze her hand then slip away to speak with the director.

"Dr. Carswell?"

The portly woman whirls around, a splash of bubbly from the bottle in her fist preceding her. "Edward! Please, it's Siobhan! Love, love, lovely show tonight, yea?"

"Yeah, absolutely," I say with full honestly. I could only wish I could do theatre. It's, like, the cream of the crop, the crème de la crème in my field. If you can make it in theatre, you're – almost quite literally – golden. "Anyway, thank you for inviting Bella and myself back here—"

"Have you ever thought of doing theatre, Cullen?"

"I… uh…" Um, _yeah_. What actor worth their salt hasn't.

"You should do a summer with Canstage," she presses on, sweeping her arm out and gesturing around us. "I have a feeling you'd do Sir William proud."

I'll admit, I kind of want to squeal like a little girl. But before I can, the loud whooping of drunken thespians alerts me to the fact that Bella is – quite literally – surrounded.

"Siobhan," I say, remembering the task at hand, "thank you so much for the compliment. Perhaps one day soon. But Bella and I need to get going. I've got to be on the set early tomorrow."

Siobhan lets me go soon after and I rescue Bella from a plastered Mercutio , who has begun to get handsy. Bella may or may not have to hold me back from decking him.

"So, do you want to explain what all of that was about?" she asks as I grab an old-fashioned oil lantern. I hold it high and let Bella lead the way out.

"Uh, not really," I reply. "Is it optimistic of me to think that the subject is now dropped?"

Bella throws me a hard stare but quietly leads me out of the theatre to the main street of the park. I leave my lantern at the entrance to the theatre and Bella and I begin our trek back to the bus stop.

"Benefactors?" she simply asks me as we stand a little further away from the other people waiting for the streetcar.

"The cost of entry is a donation," I hedge.

She narrows her eyes at me. "And _just_ how much did you _donate_?"

"Enough to make them happy," I say. Then I amend, "For a night."

She groans. "Edward."

"What?"

"You can't just do stuff like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like… Like…"

She's at a loss for words and I sense the perfect opportunity.

"Like making a very generous stage company happy and able to do what they love without any hassle?"

Bella looks up at me just as I hear the streetcar wailing in the distance and we engage in a very intense stare off.

"You play dirty, Cullen," she finally mutters, giving me one last stink eye and hugging herself to my side. I wrap my arms around her and chuckle, laying a kiss on her hair.

"I never said I didn't."

:: :: ::

This streetcar ride is a lot less… painful, thankfully. We sit near the front this time and there's only a few gawkers. No one says anything (that I hear) about me or Bella and I'm content with that.

"So tonight…" I begin to ask her, knowing full well that I already asked this question and that I might just get a different answer this time around. Bella has her head on my shoulder and I tangle my fingers into the curly ends of her hair to keep my nerves at bay. "Good surprise?"

"Tonight's not over yet," she replies cheekily after a quick think.

Wait a… Tonight's not over yet? The way she says this has my cock all _interested_.

"Nope," she replies, enunciating the 'p' with a pop. Did I say that out loud? I gulp and it sounds loud even to my own ears.

"Really?"

"You still have to take me home first," she teases.

_Oh, man_.

I can barely remember the ride home, although I manage to fake my way through conversation with Bella. All I can think about is her and her dirty, teasing mouth. The same mouth whose lips have been wrapped around my dick in every single on of my fantasies since I've met her.

"Edward?"

"Hmmm?" I'm trying to figure out how I can adjust the junk without her noticing.

"It's our stop."

I just now notice that she is standing, one hand outstretched to me, the other wrapped enticingly around the metal pole beside her.

God, I wish I could get her hand on my pole.

I shake the thought away – seriously, am I twelve? – and get up, playfully teasing Bella in hopes that my dick will find it all boring and go back to sleep.

But, of course, it's too much to ask. As the streetcar makes one final lurch, Bella stumbles back into me. In other words, her beautiful, round ass just made acquaintances with my now-raging erection. She makes a loud squeak to accompany my low groan and, with a neon pink blush painting the tips of her ears (and the apples of her cheeks, no doubt), she grinds back just a little. It's not much, but it does have me gripping her hips tightly with both hands.

"Bella…" It's a growl and I'm surprised because it doesn't sound like me but it sure as fuck it came from my mouth.

She turns and looks at me, cinnamon eyes wide and – dare I say it? – _wanting_.

"Let's go home," she tells me huskily.

I don't know if it's those three words in particular or the way she says them, but I suddenly can't help myself. As we wait for our connecting streetcar, I have my face buried in her neck, nipping and kissing the soft fragrant skin I find.

"God, what you do to me," I whisper in her ear, my teeth gently teasing her ear lobe. I feel her body shudder in my arms, her hands toying with the hem of my shirt at my back. "Christ, Bella."

She lets loose with these sexy little whimpers and I can imagine what she'd sound like beneath me, on top of me, in front of me. I've imagined it before but now that I'm just that much closer to bringing all those fantasies to reality, the film reel in my head is playing non-stop.

Our actions escalate once we're settled on the second streetcar: Bella is practically on my lap, _this_ close to kissing the fuzz off my face. Her breath is warm and she tastes like strawberries and champagne, her lips soft and tongue oh, so wet as I caress it with my own.

She's just… all of her is just so soft and so right. My left hand fits the dip of her waist perfect and my right hand is at home cupping the side of her face as I kiss her.

"Our stop, she whispers to me, pulling away to catch her breath. I don't let her go far, though, as I stand with her and spot kisses on the nape of her neck. It's awkward getting down the stairs like that but I manage to keep us both upright.

I can't keep my hands off of her as we speed walk towards her place. One of her hands is wrapped in mine while the other is tightly clenched around her house key. Part of me knows that we're taking this too fast. I don't want her to think that this is just sex; I want it to be something more. Hell, it's Bella – I know it's going to mean more. But I need her to know it, too. I need her to know that when I leave Toronto that we won't be over. I want her to be the home that I've been looking for all these years.

I'm falling in love with her. If I were to be honest, I started falling in love with her the second she punched me in the back of William's Fresh Café.

I can't tell her that though. She's skittish enough around me as it is. So I may not be able to _tell_ her, but I can sure as hell try showing her.

As I'm thinking about all of this, Bella is leading the way to her unit, her pert, round ass in my face as we climb the stairs. This sight right here is enough to stall the girly feelings in my head so once we hit the top of the stairs, I whirl her around and roughly pull her to me. I can't help but press my hips – and, by default, my cock – into her side when she arches into me and I want to feel her do it again, but without all these stupid fucking clothes in our way.

Fuck, she's so soft and so warm. The silk or satin or whatever it is that her shirt is made out of has picked up her body heat, making her even warmer against me as my hands travel all over the slinky fabric. Bella's whole body is panting against me and that only serves in fuelling my determination to get her naked. Now.

The loud slamming of her front door sends me flying backwards into a wall, startling the ever loving shit out of me. But it's soon forgotten when I lay my eyes on Bella: her hands are flat against the wall, like she's trying to brace herself back from jumping at me. Her skin is flushed in shades varying from pink to red and her hair is a riotous halo of mahogany waves. She's panting, her chest heaving and drawing my attention to her breasts. After I take a moment to fantasize about them I decide to make my fantasies a reality. I stride two steps towards her and then she is in my arms, lips frantically moving against my own.

Just as I lift her up against the wall her kisses slow. They're tentative and unsure and _fuck me, she doesn't want this, we're going too fast_.

I pull away and mumble a quick, 'I'm sorry.' But her arms don't leave their place from around my shoulders and her face is… Is she concentrating?

"Bella…? Are you okay?" She doesn't hear me, her face is still scrunched up adorably. I can't help but kiss the small, furrowed 'v' between her brows. "Hey, love, are you okay?"

Her eyes pop open and I smooth her hair away from her face before tracing the lines of her features.

"You look…" I don't want to embarrass either of us so I think a second before speaking. "Determined."

She peers up at me, an even darker blush heightening the pinkness already present on her cheeks and I know I have to speak the words that I'm dreading.

"If you don't want to do this…"

Her grip tightens on me. "No! No! I want to do this! I _have_ to do this!"

Um, what?

"Have to? You make it sound like a chore." I can't help but laugh a little, tightening my arms around her. I also can't help but finger the small ties at her waist that are holding her shirt together. I noticed those bad boys when I pulled her chair out for her at dinner and it's looking like they're going to come in handy _very_ soon.

"No, not a chore," she mutters petulantly, a pout decorating her bottom lip. And that's all I need in terms of permission to start kissing her again.

The little gasps and moans she makes drive me crazy. Absolutely insane. Each sound goes straight to my dick and I'm actually afraid that if it twitches anymore it will pull an Incredible Hulk and burst right out of my jeans. That or I'll come in my pants like some over-eager twelve year old with a Penthouse. In an effort to distract myself from either scenarios, I busy myself with tugging apart the ties of her top. When I feel the fabric go slack between us I pull it away and drop it to the floor. All that's left separating me from her glorious tits is her bra.

Her lacy, almost see-through in some places, blood red bra.

Holy shit.

This is 'twelve year old with a Penthouse' territory.

Bella could totally do Penthouse. No, scratch that. Only I'm allowed too look at her like this.

I'm slightly startled by this thought. I'm not one who tends to the possessive side, at least not that I'm really aware of, so when the words growl through my head menacingly, I have to sort of wonder where they're coming from.

Then I feel Bella's breasts brush against me as she pants for breath and all coherent thought is conveniently forgotten.

"Edward, _please_," she moans and she practically says my name with her whole body because she writhes into my touch. It also serves to fuel my newly found possessive streak and I can't help but buck my hips against her as my teeth nip at her ribs.

"Fuck, say it again."

"_Please_," she pants, totally misunderstanding me. As much as I love to hear her beg, I love hearing my name even more.

"My name, Bella," I prompt. "Say it again."

"_Edward_."

I can't help but bite her just a little harder, her skin reddening from the pressure of my teeth. The way she bucks into me doesn't make me any less hard for her, either.

"Bedroom," I demand. I don't want our first time together to be on the scuffed hardwood of her front hall and I'm pretty sure she wouldn't want that, either.

The second the directions are out of her mouth, I'm off my knees and dragging her behind me. Just as I reach the door, I stop and turn around and Bella, in her haste, crashes right into my chest.

"Bella, tell me you want this, too," I plead, giving her one last out.

I have to do it. There are so many reasons for us _not_ to be together, least of all the fact that I'm leaving in three weeks when we finish filming in Toronto. There are so many forces at work telling me that I don't deserve her so I need her to make the decision for the two of us, because God only knows that if I make it I'll kill myself over it later.

"I want this, Edward," she breathes, her fingers nimbly pushing my shirt buttons through the placket as she gazes up at me. "I want this. Do you?"

Instead of answering her, I lean down and capture her lips with mine, backing up into her dark bedroom and pulling her with me. We're now shedding clothes like the unnecessary skins they are and then I feel the back of my thighs hit the edge of the bed. I pull a condom from my wallet and throw it up by the pillows then sit and kick off my shoes, socks, and jeans. Bella does the same before straddling me, her small knees landing outside of mine.

The dim glow from the streetlamps and the moon through the windows gives me enough light to see Bella's shadowed form on my lap. Her skin seems to glow from the inside out and her hair and eyes are black in the darkness of the room. She looks ethereal, and way too good for me.

"Touch me," Bella whispers, pulling my hands from where they are fisting her comforter. She guides them to her chest and places them on her tits. Oh, her tits… They're fucking marvellous. They're soft and full, not too small but just enough to fill my palms when I hold them like this. Her nipples are hard against my thumbs so I tend to them, rolling them underneath my fingers as she moans for more.

I'm encouraged by the sounds she's making and the way she's pushing her body into me so I let one hand fall from her chest and it skims down her body until I reach the lace of her panties. I reach one finger behind the thin elastic and trace the skin underneath from hip to hip and Bella pushes forward. It amazes me just how responsive she is.

Her hands, which have been idly resting on my knees until now, begin to reciprocate the touches I'm giving her: she traces invisible lines on my neck, over my Adam's apple, and across my chest. One fingertip then follows the shallow circuits that outline the muscles of my torso while her other hand curls in the sparse hair covering my chest and trailing down my stomach. I feel her nail scratch lightly at the waistband of my boxer briefs and she copies my teasing motions. My cock twitches against her wrist as she passes over it and I can't hold back the groan that bubbles out of me.

"Bella," I rasp before attacking her with my lips. I grab her, pull her to me and kiss her frantically as I fight the lace that keeps her – all of her – from me. There's a tearing sound and she gasps into my mouth and _shit, I definitely owe her a pair of panties_ but she is bared for me. I spread my legs, spreading hers as well in the process, and I tug the now useless pair of panties hard enough that they pull from her body and I toss them to the floor.

I want to look at her, see her in all her glory but I can't bring myself to stop tasting her lips, her tongue, her sweet and fragrant skin. So I just touch her instead, letting my fingers see for me. I stroke her thighs, moving higher and higher on every pass, and her skin just keeps getting softer and softer until I feel warm wet. Bella lets out this deep, breathy sigh and holy shit, is she ever warm and she is definitely wet. For me.

I can't help but swell with pride at that.

I want to touch her more, bring her a little closer to God just once so I can watch, but more than one part of me is getting impatient. I decide that all of that fluffy, romantic shit can wait for later, right now I just need to feel her, _all_ of her.

I pick Bella up and reverse our positions, lowering her so that she's laying on her bed looking up at me. I want to tell her sweet things, things to make her feel precious and wanted because she is all that and more. But I can't. Seeing her lying beneath me has taken all my words and any sort of sense I have in my brain, she's that fucking beautiful. Her eyes are heavy lidded with lust and the rise and fall of her tits as she gasps is hypnotic.

"Edward, please," she begs, her nails scratching up and down my chest before moving with purpose to push down my briefs. "Please, _I need you_."

The way she says it… It feels as if she's talking more than just sex.

I hover over her, one arm braced on the bed to the left of her head, and lean down to kiss her while I reach for the gold foil packet partially hidden by her hair. She tilts her hips and grinds her wetness along the length of my dick and I moan because all I want to do is sink into her bareback and feel her, _really_ feel her. I distinctly hear the crinkling of condom wrapper as it bends in my fist while I tease her clit with the head of my cock.

"Fuck, fuck, _fuck_," I hiss into against her lips, reminding myself that I can't just push like I want to. "Shit. Bella."

I waste no more time and pull on the condom just as Bella snakes her legs around my hips. I love how much she wants me, how much she seems to _need_ me, even after only knowing her for such a short time. I'm not one who believes in fate or love at first sight or any of that crap, but being with Bella… Well, being with her could certainly change that.

When I finally slide into her, I have to bite down on her bottom lip that I'm kissing, it's just _that_ _good_. She's moving her hips, grinding up from beneath me and I can barely stand it so I move a hand down to grab her hip roughly, hoping she gets the point. It doesn't deter her, though, but I think it just turns her on even more because she bucks again and moans even louder.

"Edward," she giggles in a gasp, snaking a hand between us and the other wrapping over my shoulder, "for this to work you need to _move_."

She punctuates the last word with a roll of her hips and that single move is my undoing.

We move together, push and pulling in the best possible way and when I feel her delicate fingers reach down to stroke at her clit, bumping against my shaft on every outstroke, I go wild.

"Bella, please," I pant, shifting so that her legs rest above my elbows. In an effort to distract myself from coming before she does, my gaze follows a bead of sweat travelling down her skin in a staccato rhythm that matches our hips. It's a bad idea, though, because the drop is travelling in the valley between her tits and that just brings her glorious chest to my attention.

"Oh!" she breathes out. "More… _More_… Oh, _Edward_!"

I feel the fire rage through me and I lose all control as I hear her say my name. I can't help it, it's more than just the physical pleasure… It's… _everything_.

I roll off of her as I'm panting to catch my breath and pull Bella to me after discarding the tied off condom on the floor. She's all relaxed and loose – and a little flaily – as I crash my lips against hers for a kiss.

"Did we just…?" she asks. I try to read her tone: it's not regretful but sleepy, lazy… and, if I'm not mistaken, a little awed?

"Shh," I tell her, manoeuvring us so I'm big spooning her. "Don't over-think it."

"Wasn't," I hear her mumble sleepily, her hands tangling up in my arms as she hugs me tighter.

"Good." I kiss her hair one last time before I let sleep claim me. "Very good."

* * *

><p>Any other outtakes you'd guys like to see? I have a few lined up, but I'm always open for suggestions.<p> 


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